Forbidden
by I Dream of Fall
Summary: DG.When a young Ginny has a chance encounter with Draco Malfoy, neither expected it would turn into a secret friendship far deeper than either of them ever expected... and after Draco's sixth year, it may be the one thing that keeps them both alive.
1. The Holidays Before Ginny's First Year

**Summary:** What if Ginny grew a spine long before Harry's fourth year? Would it mean full acceptance with the Golden Trio? Would it stop her from opening the Chamber of Secrets? Would it spark Harry's interest far earlier than sixth year? Or, perhaps most importantly… would it mean a years-long secret friendship with Draco Malfoy that becomes far deeper than either of them ever expected it to become? And when all hell breaks loose with Lord Voldemort's return, will it be the only thing that keeps them alive? D/G, leads up to post-HBP with horcrux search; canon events in a slightly AU light.

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling!

**Forbidden**

**The Holidays Before Ginny's First Year**

When she looked back on it, ten-year-old Ginevra Weasley didn't remember quite how she had become separated from her family on their annual Diagon Alley Christmas shopping trip. All that mattered was that she had, but more importantly, somehow… she had ended up in Knockturn Alley. At the time, she didn't even know that she was _in _Knockturn Alley. All she knew was that she was in a dark, dirty, and entirely dodgy place on a dark, cold, cloudy day, and she wasn't entirely sure how to get back.

Luckily, the littlest Weasley's winter cloak had a hood, and she knew how and when to use it… especially when many a grizzled old man had begun ogling her in a wholly disturbing way. Throwing the dark material up to cover most of her face, she managed to keep to the shadows of the streets, avoiding as many people as she could. She didn't know how much time had passed while she wandered in search of a way back, past sinister window displays, more dark, narrow alleys…

That was when Ginny Weasley first saw Draco Malfoy. As she had, for as long as she could remember, had the uncanny but usually deadly accurate ability of sensing a person's general aura, Ginny _felt_ him, more aptly: Frustration, embarrassment, and desperate loneliness. In that order.

Her head snapped to the right.

Down the constricted alleyway that bordered one of the "nicer" pubs was a platinum blond boy who looked to be only a little older than her, his back to her, dressed in dark, expensive-looking robes. The odd thing was that, for all his regal appearance, he was limply standing, his shoulders slumped, in a circle of green that seemed like it had been drawn into the snow-covered stones around him. He didn't have a cloak, and even from behind, she could see that he was hugging himself, shivering in the frigid winter air.

The nutter… if he was cold, why didn't he just go inside?

Overwhelmed by curiosity, Ginny padded down the alley. It was littered by only a rubbish bin and some stacked crates. The harpings of her mother about not wandering off were still fresh in her mind; one of the reasons she hadn't simply asked the first person she had seen for directions on how to find her way back to Diagon Alley was because anyone she voluntarily walked up to here had looked like they would have been more likely to kidnap her than help her out. She wasn't quite as nervous about talking to someone her age, though…. and someone whose aura didn't blatantly read 'evil!'

He didn't seem to hear her approach, so she slowed and cautiously stopped a few feet behind him. "Erm… hello?"

With a speed that was would have made any of her Quidditch-playing brothers jealous, the boy's slumped form snapped up to a formidable height. He spun around, pale, narrow features setting into a scowl as soon as he saw her. "What do you want?" he snapped icily.

Ginny quickly took a step backward at the viciousness of the question and the way that the boy was staring at her so coldly… until her surprised hazel eyes were drawn to a deep purple welt on the left side of his face. "I… I just – What happened to you?" she blurted out.

"Come to stare, have you?" he sneered, heatedly brushing some of his once-slicked-back hair out of his face where it had been partially hiding the large bruise, as if the force of whatever had caused said bruise had jolted it out of place. "Well, guess what, you little brat? The show's over, so you can just go back to wherever you came from!"

A good amount of her concern melted into indignation. _Who does he think he is! _"How – how _dare _you! It was just a simple question!" the ten-year-old spluttered angrily, crossing her arms. "Why would I want to _look _at you? If you must know, I was going to ask you for help, which I'm not quite sure I want to do anymore!"

A gust of icy wind swept through the narrow alleyway, chilling even Ginny in her warm-enough cloak to the bone. For a moment, the boy continued to glare at her, but his aura of nastiness was significantly diminished when he shivered. Appearing to be battling his dignity, he finally wrapped his arms back around himself for warmth. "None of your business," he muttered in answer to her original question, but his voice wasn't nearly as cold as it had been before.

Hm. Since he was so obviously cross about being outside, perhaps he was… trapped? Ginny frowned at his slender, trembling form. Indeed, it almost looked as if he was locked within the boundaries of the green circle. "Well… do you need help?" she asked.

"Not from you," he retorted derisively, his face blank as he stared at the snow crunching around his feet.

Strangely, after her initial outburst, Ginny didn't find herself getting annoyed by his scornful tone. If anything, she was beginning to feel sorry for him. His aura had not changed to 'bad;' he was still simply frustrated, embarrassed, and lonely. What had happened to him, to make him fight kindness with fire? "So… that's it, then," she said slowly. "You're just going to stand here."

"That's right," he instantly said so vehemently it was almost a snarl. "I'm just going to stand here and _freeze_ like the ruddy failure of a son that I am, because I'm going to take my punishment _like a man." _As soon as the words exited his mouth, a sour, taken aback expression briefly crossed his face like he couldn't believe what he'd just said.

Suddenly, things became much appallingly clearer for the little girl. "Your _parents _did this to you?" she gasped.

"Not my mum," he muttered quickly, still staring at the ground.

Ginny was still horrified. "But your dad, then?"

He continued to stand stiffly and didn't reply, his face still drawn into a cold mask of indifference. After a moment, she drew her cloak more tightly about her and asked softly, "How long have you been out here?"

Again, the boy didn't say a word; didn't even look at her. A minute later and on the verge of snapping, Ginny was about to ask him if an alley cat had got his tongue when he responded roughly, "Since morning."

_Morning? _Sweet heavens, that had been… _hours _ago! The sky was quickly darkening; it must have been at least four in the afternoon! At a loss, she stood there wondering what to say. Asking him if he was cold or hungry would be pointless, because he most certainly would be…

"Well, it could be worse. At least it isn't snowing," she offered brightly. When he simply muttered something under his breath and shoved his bare hands up his sleeves, she asked, changing the subject, "How… how much longer will you be here?"

"Why do you care?" he growled caustically, but his heart no longer seemed to be in the insult behind it.

The redhead sighed. _He's not exasperating, he's not exasperating, he's just… being difficult. _She didn't know how she could tell, but, somehow, she could sense it as clearly as she could his aura. Wordlessly, she tugged off her gloves and held them out to him. "Would these help?"

The boy's gaze rose sharply and quickly moved between her small face and the gloves. After several seconds, he hesitantly tugged one hand out of his sleeve and reached out… and a spark of green ignited between his fingers and the gloves the moment he touched them.

Swearing words that Ginny had only heard come out of Bill and Charlie's mouths, the boy swiftly yanked his hand back, nursing it against his chest. She bit her lip and drew her hand back as well, an apologetic smile quirking at her lips. "Sorry."

"It doesn't matter. I can hardly feel anymore anyway," he said dully. Shoving his hands back into the sleeves of his robe, he muttered quietly, "Thanks… for trying, though."

Ginny smiled warmly. "You're welcome. Sorry it didn't work."

"It's alright," he mumbled. Shivering and pulling his robes around him more tightly, he abruptly turned himself so that he was facing away from her slightly. "You… you should go," he said in a low voice. "If my father comes back and finds you here…"

He trailed off, but she got the point. If his father was willing to beat up his son and leave him outside in the middle of winter, then she could hardly expect him to be any more accommodating for a ten-year-old girl that he didn't even know, could she? "All right," she reluctantly consented with a nod. She started to turn, then glanced back up at him. "Oh, might you by any chance be able to tell me how to get back to Diagon Alley?"

The boy looked back at her, true surprise etched on his previously emotionless features. "You don't mean to be here?"

"Mm-mn." Ginny shook her hood-covered head, rubbing her hands together for warmth before pulling the gloves back on them with a slight twinge of guilt. She winced slightly. "My family is probably going barking mad, too. Mum'll really give it to me when I get back, but it'll be better than wandering around in this place for the rest of my life."

"Figures, you hardly act like a Slytherin," he muttered to himself before he glanced at her curiously. "You don't go to Hogwarts, do you," he said, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question.

She smiled brightly. "Not yet, but I start next year!"

He snorted and rolled his eyes, intensely studying her face once again. "Well, let me put my bets in early. Cheery, optimistic, sickeningly caring, and walking around Knockturn Alley like it's the next great adventure. Hm, let's see, what does that leave us? Oh! That's right; no doubt you'll be in _Gryffindor," _he sneered.

_Alright, so maybe he is a bit… irritating. _"Better than being in _Slytherin,"_ the redhead shot back, quickly inferring from his sudden question, the green tie under his robes, and his general rudeness that he obviously was.

His eyes darkened as if she had personally insulted him. "Listen, you little brat, do you want my help or not?" he spat frigidly.

Her eyebrows flew up, but instead of cowering under his icy glare like he probably expected her to… Ginny Weasley laughed. For a second, the boy looked thunderstruck, then like he was about to risk crossing the green circle just so he could lunge at her and ring her neck, which incidentally only made her double over and laugh harder.

Finally, she gulped in a lungful of air and straightened up. "No… I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing at you," she gasped, catching her breath. "It's just… being that mean must take so much energy… Wouldn't you rather conserve it, even if that meant being relatively civil to me?" she asked in a more serious tone.

For a good thirty seconds, the boy stared at her as if she had turned green and grown an antenna. "You thought _that _was funny?" he finally asked disbelievingly without answering her question.

"Well…" Ginny frowned and thought to herself. "All right, maybe it wasn't that funny," she conceded reluctantly. _Though Merlin knows you need a few laughs to wipe that scowl off your face._ "But it _sounded_ funny at the time," she protested as his eyebrow raised, "and I thought I'd offer you the point anyway."

He shook his head incredulously. "Little brat," he muttered again, still shivering, but his right lip had quirked into the slightest of smiles. It faded quickly, though, as he pointed won the alley and continued in a flatter, toneless voice, "When you go out of this alley, turn right. Stay on that street until Borgin and Burkes. It's a… specialty shop. Turn left. That's it."

"Right, left. All right, I've got it." She nodded to herself, then focused back on him again. Her smile, however, faltered just a bit when she again caught sight of his half-beaten face. "Well… Good luck, then." After a split second's hesitation, she added, "It was… nice to meet you." _Sort of. When you were semi-nice._

By now, he had completely turned his back to her, but after a moment, Ginny heard him mutter, "It was nice to meet you, too." He paused before he turned his head back toward her slightly and added, more roughly, "Get out of here, brat."

Ginny almost choked. His ability to switch between barely-there courtesy and blatant rudeness in a heartbeat was something she had never run into before; among all her brothers, none, not even Fred and George, had such a talent. _Here we go, back to the Ice Man again, _she thought with a sigh. _But he almost smiled!_

She dearly wanted to ask him why he chose to be mean when he had just as much ability to be nice, but she wisely chose against it. Instead, she walked out of the alleyway without looking back.

The thing was, she had every intention of returning.

**Three Hours Later**

Draco Malfoy was quite certain he had never been so cold or so hungry for such a long period of time in his entire life. Most of him had already gone numb, and it only got worse as dusk fell. He had crouched into a ball hours earlier, soon after the girl had left him, but it hadn't done much good, seeing as there was hardly an ounce of heat left in him to keep him warm.

The girl.

He forced his numbing mind to think of the little brat. Despite his derogatory title for her… he had never quite met anyone like her before.

His father's friends had always brought their sons around even before he had begun at Hogwarts, and the two mountains of muscle and absolutely no brains had leeched onto Draco the moment he had stepped on the train. The girl his parents had been trying to force down his throat for years, and who had thrown herself on him as quickly as Crabbe and Goyle had – his lip curled at the thought of her advances; gods, he was only _eleven – _was absolutely revolting. Too whiny for her own good. Not that he had a right to talk.

But this mysterious girl… now _she_ had been rather interesting, even though he hadn't really gotten a proper view of her, what with the ruddy hood on her head. Foreignly naïve and considerate. At least she'd been able to speak in complete sentences. Draco was in a foul mood, with good reason, and he'd tried his damnedest to intimidate her, but it hadn't worked. Instead, she'd laughed at him! Of all the bloody nerve…

Vaguely, he wondered which family she was from. She must have been a pureblood, or at least a half-blood, to know about Diagon Alley before she got her school letter.

He gave up thinking about her or much of anything else save his lack of food and freezing body as night fell. The fact that very shadowy, truly frightening-looking characters had begun moving with more frequentness near the mouth of the alley only scared him more, though he'd only admit that over his dead boy. He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth's chattering from worsening.

Still… what if – what if one of them saw him before his father came back –

"Hello again."

Draco leapt so violently in surprised alarm that he nearly suffered another electric shock. Just as quickly, he scrambled back to the center of the glowing green ring, and, fighting to move his numbed joints, he jumped to his feet… and came face to face – almost – with the same girl who'd come before.

Swiftly, he hid utter shock behind a sneering mask. Was she – Was she _stupid? _Honestly, did she want his father to start beating on her, too? Not to mention what would happen if some of the loonies in Knockturn Alley found a girl wandering around...

"I t-thought I t-t-told you to _get out of h-here!" _he hissed, scowling to himself when his words emerged through his chattering teeth in a stutter.

To Draco's complete astonishment, the girl laughed and waved her hand as if she was in the midst of one of his mother's Victorian tea parties. "I went to Flourish and Blotts. Before mum nearly boxed my ears, of course," she noted with a frown. Draco swore he could hear a smile in her voice. Could people even talk like that? "They had a book on magic circles. Apparently, a person being held inside one of them can only be given something from the outside if the outsider willingly steps into the circle…"

As she continued to speak, her voice became hollow in his ears. He distantly noticed that she had begun to move closer, but the blond was too cold to care. A bitter gust of wind rushed through the Alley, and he actually quaked. He hated, _hated _showing this sort of weakness, especially in front of girls… especially _this_ particular girl. His father would have been even more disappointed, but he couldn't help it, he couldn't control his shaking body anymore. He was… he was so cold…

"… so would you mind if I – er – came in your circle?" Ginny finished.

The boy didn't respond, save haltingly crouching back down into a shivering ball and wrapping his arms around his knees. The ten-year-old let out a groan, looking down at the bulging paper bag in her hand. It wasn't much, but it had been all she could afford while managing to sneak away from her family once again.

She looked back over at the boy. "_Hello?" _she repeated more slowly, as if she was talking to her recently departed – and very hard of hearing - grandfather. "Are you _alright?_ Do you _mind_ if I _come in?"_

After a few seconds, his words partially muffled because he had shoved his face into his knees, he simply choked out, "S-S-So… S-So c-c-c-cold…"

_And this one's beyond talking to,_ Ginny thought to herself. Though the boy hadn't exactly been nice, if she could help him, she would, and a second later she was stepping into the magic circle without his permission, crouching down across from him and setting the bag on the snowy ground. The circle had been made tiny as it was, so she was practically on top of him almost immediately, but…

Carefully, somewhat cautiously (she had no idea how he would take it), the little redhead scooted up right next to him and reached her arms around him, wrapping him into her hand-me-down but generously-sized cloak. To her surprise, he didn't scornfully refuse her help, but, shivering violently, remained stiff but unmoving in her arms.

_Well… that worked out better than expected, _she thought with a small smile, closing her eyes and carefully resting her chin on his shoulder. For at least five minutes, she huddled there with him until she felt his shaking lessen enough that she could reach down for the bag.

"Here," she said, pulling out a thermos and offering it to him. Wordlessly, he took it from her with still-shaking hands and clutched its warm exterior. "Hot chocolate," she explained when his silence continued. "Right from the Leaky Cauldron. I had some, too, before I ran away again – Mum is probably going to murder me when I get back, but anyway… It's good."

Draco blinked in disbelief. She had risked coming back into one of the most dangerous alleys in England and being on the receiving end of her mother's wrath, apparently… for someone she didn't even know? Definitely going to be a Gryffindor."Bloody hell, you _are_ insane," he muttered, but he gratefully began to gulp down the thermos' contents.

Ginny pulled away from him slightly, the extra material of her cloak slipping from around his shoulders, and had to set one of her gloved hands on the ground for balance. From this close, she could see that his eyes were a strange silvery-gray. In a way, he looked strangely familiar, as… as if she had seen someone or someone related to him before. "What's your name?" she asked curiously.

As if she had pushed a button, he stopped downing the hot chocolate and lifted his chin proudly, his shoulders straightening even in his crouched position. "Draco Malfoy."

Instantly, Ginny's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening. That white-blond hair… she should have known! Ron had written home fuming about some 'blond-headed Slytherin git,' and she had seen her father return from work storming about 'that Malfoy bloke' on more than one occasion. _Ohhh, Ron, Dad - Mum too, probably- would **not** be happy right now…_

"You've heard the name, I see," Draco observed with a proud smirk, watching her closely as he continued to clutch the thermos in his shaking fingers.

_Whoops. Have to watch myself. _"Once or twice," she returned just as carelessly. She didn't know why, exactly, her family had a problem with the Malfoys, but she figured to keep to the safe side for the rest of the time. "Well…" She smiled. "I'm Ginny W –" Erm, last name maybe not such a good idea. "Just Ginny," she added hastily.

"'Just Ginny,' hm?" He raked his eyes over her again, but now that he was dark he couldn't see anything over her pixie nose, with the hood she was wearing. He tried to recall what he'd seen of her face before. It had been pale but pretty enough, with a dusting of freckles… _Merlin's beard, she'd better not be a Weasley. No. They can't possibly have any more children, _he decided. "Are you a pureblood?"

"Yes," she said slowly, and, frowning slightly, pulled a croissant from the bag and offered it to him. "Although I don't know why it matters to you whether I am or not," she said while he threw all decorum aside and scarfed it down hungrily.

"It… matters a lot," he finally stated conversationally, delicately licking any remaining bread crumbs off his fingers to make up for the crude way he'd eaten it. "You're better than half of the other filth in this world. Don't know what I would have thought of you if you weren't one."

Instead of being flattered to receive an indirect compliment from someone as aristocratic as a Malfoy,the Ginny girl stared at him for several beats and then simply said, "Oh," drawing out the "Oh" for at least ten seconds in the exact same tone of his father whenever he had just realized something horrible.

Draco frowned. What did 'Oooohhhh' mean when she said it like _that? _"What?" he demanded defensively, probing her face, but then she was standing up and stepping backward out of the circle, taking the now-empty bag and thermos with her. "What did I say?" he snapped again and jumped to his feet, irritated that she wasn't answering him. He was used to being answered immediately.

"You're from one of those families who are really into blood heritage, aren't you," she said slowly, her expression unreadable.

_Good Merlin, don't let her be a mudblood lover!_ He could have groaned, though he didn't know why whether or not her beliefs aligned with his suddenly mattered so much. "So what if I am?" he sneered, again on the defensive. "Do you have a problem with that, _brat?_ Clearly you do, since you care so much about your precious mudbl—"

"Wait a _minute,"_ she interrupted him firmly. Draco again gaped at her. No boy or girl his age, except Potter and his stupid little friends or anyone who didn't know better, of course, ever had dared to interrupt _him, _Draco Malfoy! As if she was completely unaware of this, the little witch continued calmly, "Just because I don't fancy the idea that purebloods are automatically the best doesn't mean I'm judging you for fancying it."

The unruffled edge to her voice was boarder-line infuriating. It somehow managed to remind him of Dumbledore, and even though it was only half a year in, he couldn't stand the loony old bat already. He scowled to keep his confusion from shining through. "How can you not think you're better than them?" he asked scornfully, clenching his hands.

Strangely, her lips twisted into an equally infuriating small smile. "How are you so sure that you are?"

Draco could have let out a frustrated scream. He desperately wanted to reach out and shake some sense into her, but now that blasted circle was between them. She had seemed like someone he might have actually been willing to befriend, and now she had to go off and – and pull something like _this!_

"I'm so _sure, _as it is, because my father's _always_ told me how we're better," he informed her with a haughty edge. As it was, he couldn't help bragging a little. She was, after all, quite pretty, in a bland way… "Mudbloods have nothing when compared to us. We're smarter, richer, more powerful – Father's shown me everything. And now the bloody idiotic Ministry is letting in muggleborns so they can _ruin_ the old ways!" Crossing his arms with an air of certainty, he leaned back on his heels and waited for her to agree with him.

"Your father told you, did he?" Jenny – no, Ginny eventually replied softly in an unexpectedly disappointed tone. Draco looked at her quickly, his eyes narrowed dangerously, as she gave him a… it was almost sad, her smile. "The same man who hits you across the face, leaves you outside for hours on one of the coldest days of the year without a cloak, trapped in a circle in one of the most dangerous Alleys in England, without food, without telling you when he'll ever come back?" she asked quietly. "And you still believe, without question, what he tells you to believe?"

Draco's mouth fell open, shut, opened again, and shut just as quickly. As much as he would have loved to rub it in her face, that she was dead wrong, that she knew _nothing _about him, absolutely nothing… he couldn't.

Because every single horrible thing that she had said had been true.

When he didn't reply, didn't even _move, _actually, Ginny sighed heavily. "Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to get back now or my parents really will lock me in the house for life." She gave him another one of those regretful yet genuine smiles and turned. "I hope your father comes for you soon, and Draco…" She glanced back at his tall, motionless form. "I really hope I helped you."

And then she left… leaving Draco Malfoy something that he had never been in any moment of his eleven short years.

Speechless.

**A/N:** I'll only say this once so it won't become repetitive and annoying. Reviews would be lovely! We authors adore them. Please tell me what you think of the chapter or ask any questions you may have!


	2. Harry's Arrival and Flourish and Blotts

**Disclaimer: **A very small amount of the spoken lines in this chapter were taken directly from JK Rowling and HP and the COS in order to coincide events. So I thought I would cite!

**Harry's Arrival and Flourish and Blotts**

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts…"_

_Giant pinwheels floated through castles in the sky as eleven-year-old Ginny gleefully sailed broomlessly through the air, the wind whipping through her hair. At a sudden should she glanced down just in time to see Ron, wearing a bright fuchsia skirt that clashed horribly with his hair. _

"_Gin! Come on!" he exclaimed joyfully, merrily dancing around the frog pond doing what appeared to be some sort of strange tribal dance. "It's the 'it's almost time for school to start' shuffle –!"_

Nervousness, embarrassment, and desperate loneliness.

Jerking out of a dream, Ginny's brown eyes flew open, and she sat up in bed with a start. The soft glow of early morning light was streaming in through the windows of her small bedroom. She hardly noticed, instead focusing in on the small area in her mind that she had come to label as the "Aura Center." Even in sleep, she had felt the stronger-than-usual Aura as if the person exuding it was sitting right next to her.

It was nearly the same one that the blond boy had exuded so many months ago. What had his name been? _Darko? - No. No, it was Draco. Draco Malfoy… As in the Draco Malfoy Ron loves to hate. _

She was able to remember his sensation so well because she had constantly been surrounded by generally cheerful, if not downright mischievous, Auras for as long as she could remember: namely, her family. _Well, except Percy's obsessive compulsive one, but that doesn't really count -_

" –do with taking a leaf out of Percy's book! I have been OUT of my MIND with worry!"

At the sudden screech, Ginny winced slightly even though it sounded like it had emerged from the first floor rather than anywhere near her room. Her mother's temper both fast and furious, and she pitied anyone who was on the receiving end.Furrowing her brow, she climbed out of bed, prepared to risk her Mum's wrath in order to investigate. Tiptoeing to her door, she pulled it opened quietly and slipped out into the hallway –

"And _YOU! _Ronald Weasley, how _dare_ you blindly follow your brothers –"

_Ginny! You can't go walking around in your **nightgown **when there are strange boys in the house! _her mind abruptly hissed as another of her Mum's screeches rang out. _Oh… whoops. _Laughing at herself, she quickly threw on a pair of pants and a light top, checking her hair before she emerged back in the hallway, thinking about the strange turn the morning had taken as she did.

Except to occasionally go shopping with her mother, Ginny didn't get out of the Burrow all that often, but really.. how many embarrassed and lonely Auras were out there with enough reason to come into her house? She frowned. _Then again… why would my family invite a Malfoy into the house? If Dad isn't home, then Ron at least would've certainly murdered him by now…_

A banging of pans against pans momentarily interrupted her thoughts. " –taking the car, in plain sight. _Plain sight! _I don't know _what _you were thinking – "

Ginny rolled her eyes. _**Now** what have they done?_ she wondered.

Images of that late December day flashed through her mind as she descended the stairs. Draco had been one of the first boys her age that she had interacted with outside of her family. His rich, meticulous appearance, his snooty attitude, his contemptuous speech… almost everything about him had been extremely different from what she was used to, but it was more of an interesting change than an annoyance. She had found somewhat amusing his dogged effort to be cranky and rude, no matter what she said. And really, during the few times he hadn't acted arrogant and cold… he really hadn't been that bad.

In fact, she really wouldn't mind seeing him again, she thought with a small smile. Almost eagerly, she gathered a bit of extra momentum at the bottom of the steps and leapt through the doorframe into the kitchen, her eyes raking over the several people inside for a head of blond hair.

_Red, red, red, red, black – **Black?**_

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. There was no aristocratic blond in her kitchen. Instead, the only unfamiliar face was the farthest thing from it: a rather thin boy with messy dark hair, wearing Muggle clothing and glasses. She gaped at him in confusion. But his Aura… she had been _certain _it was Draco Malfoy!

"Oh, Ginny dear!" Her mother exclaimed with a smile, waving her toward the table while shooting another dirty glare at Fred and George. "Look who's joined us for breakfast!" Ginny followed Mrs. Weasley's gaze as the older woman swept her hand toward the messy-haired boy and lowered her voice. "It's Harry Potter! Remember what I told you, dear, he's only a year older than you are! And such a polite young man!"

For as inconspicuous as she tried to make the remark, the dark-haired boy must have heard it because he glanced at them and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. The 'hint-hint' in her mother's voice had not passed over Ginny's head, either. _Ew, Mum… I'm only in first year!_

"Ginny," she heard Ron say to Harry in a low voice as she gave Mrs. Weasley a 'Yeah, maybe' smile and approached the table. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

"Only to humor _you,_ Ronald dear, because you haven't shut up about him either," Ginny countered with a roll of her eyes. Ron flushed and glared at her as she sat down across from the new boy who was not Draco Malfoy. Trying to hide an inexplicable twinge of disappointment that flittered through her mentality, she smiled at him. "Hi. I hope my brothers haven't driven you madyet; they seem to be quite apt at doing it - Thanks Mum," she added as Mrs. Weasley sat a plate of food down in front of her and patted her head with a fond smile.

"The only little angel left in this family," she mournfully bemoaned none-too-discreetly, with another glower at the twins.

When she turned back to the dishes, Fred and George instantly caught Ginny's eye pointedly and used their pointer fingers to make Devil horns over their heads. Ginny stuck her tongue out at them and held back a laugh.

"Er – no, they, er… haven't yet," Harry said a few seconds after the action died down, sounding utterly uncomfortable with even the simple task of opening his mouth.

"Well, just wait, then. Give them time," Ginny said sagely, tucking into her breakfast. As she ate, she continued to study him curiously. It was so interesting. This new boy's Aura and Draco's Aura were so similar, they could have been brothers, but they acted completely different from each other… like night and day.

"Better watch out. She's got the eye for you, mate," Ron whispered to Harry with a small smirk, but it wasn't quiet enough for the already quiet kitchen. Ginny's ears perked up the second he began to speak. "Reckon she's been dreaming about you, too."

_**What?** _She let out a squeak of indignance at the unexpected and, to her, very random remark, but before she could defend herself properly, Mrs. Weasley all but threw a ladle at her youngest son. "Ronald Weasley! You will keep comments like that to yourself!"

Instantly, another uncomfortable silence spread across the table, broken only by a clattering of dishes as Mrs. Weasley vehemently continued scrubbing her cooking dishes.

"Ginny's going to be in first year," Ron finally offered tentatively, cringing slightly and quickly glancing at Mrs. Weasley. When she didn't snap or throw anything at him, however, he relaxed, and Ginny guess that the topic had cleared her mother's relevancy test.

"An ickle firstie," Fred piped in with a devious smirk.

"Shut up, Fred," Ginny said good-naturedly as Harry looked at her interestedly. "I _am_ going to Hogwarts," she confirmed with a smile when he didn't say anything, trying to remember what Ron had said about Harry – aside from the fact that he was _the_ Harry Potter, of course. "There's hardly any suspense over which House I'm going to be in, either. Do you like being in Gryffindor?"

"Gin-bug, are you out you out of your mind? Of _course_ he likes being in Gryffindor!" George crowed with a wink and a smirk. "How could he not like being in the Headmaster's favorite House? When he breaks the rules, he gets 100 extra House points!" He and Fred hi-fived each other as Harry flushed in embarrassment.

""Hush, Fre–Geor–_you!" _Mrs. Weasley finally exclaimed, flinging a hand at him, and, as a result, a wave of soapsuds. "Let Harry speak!"

After a moment, the dark-haired boy glanced at Ginny and nodded, again shifting in discomfort at being the center of attention. "Yeah. Yeah, I like it a lot."

_And some people think **I'm **quiet? _"You'll probably like it even more, now that you've spent another summer with those horrible Muggles. S'pose the reason they're mean to you is because they're jealous you can do something as amazing as magic, and they can't," she commented, digging into a few sausage links.

He looked at her for several seconds. After a moment, she glanced up at him curiously, and he blinked. "Yeah… Probably," he hastily agreed, offering her a small smile. "Everyone's really nice to me there, at Hogwarts – Well, except the Slytherins, but they don't quite matter. I'm sure you'll like it, too."

"I hope so," she said sincerely, polishing off the last of her toast.

"But speaking of that, you'll have to watch out for those Slytherin gits, Gin," Ron muttered quietly enough that his mother wouldn't hear. "No doubt you'll meet them soon enough. You can't let them get the better of you!"

Ginny jumped on the perfect opportunity to investigate the first non-family member who had intrigued her in her eleven short years. "Hm, by 'Slytherin gits' I suppose you actually mean 'Draco Malfoy," she noted with a small smirk.

"Malfoy _is _a git," Harry suddenly offered without any prompting whatsoever.

"Yes, you all say that, but _why?"_ she pushed innocently, truly curious. _Aside from the fact that he's pompous and can be slightly irritating…_ "I've been trying to get an understandable answer out of Ron all summer, but all he's capable of doing is shrieking 'He's a right git! A right git, Ginny! If he even _looks _at you this year, I'll wring his sodding neck!' "

At her sudden, high-pitched screech, Mrs. Weasley looked both surprised and affronted, George and Fred let out twin guffaws, Ron choked and glared at her murderously, and Harry laughed.

**Flourish and Blotts, a few weeks later**

"_When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present to him now, free of charge – "_ As the crowd gathered around Gilderoy Lockhart applauded, Draco nearly vomited at the sugary-ness to it all._ "He had **no idea,"** _Lockhart continued, flashing a magically-modified smile and patting Potter on the back like he was his newest best friend, whilst Potter stood there looking nauseatingly modest and unassuming, _"that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, **Magical Me…"**_

As the speech glorifying Perfect Potter and the White-Teethed Wonder that went on and on, Draco forced himself to tune out the grating voice and the disgusting image of Potter being hailed for simply _breathing_ by a crowd of at least a hundred. From the day that Potter had rejected his offer of friendship without even considering it, Draco had resented him.

At the time, he couldn't understand what he had done wrong, but as the year went on, the answer became clear: Potter was a Gryffindor through and through, and Draco prided himself in that he most certainly was not. They would have mixed like oil and water. On top of that, he had failed in his father's explicit instructions: _Befriend the Potter boy at all costs._ Even in something as simple as that… he had failed.

He always failed. _  
_

Another wave of thunderous applause interrupted his bitter line of thought, and he looked up to see Potter, red-faced, walk over to a lesser-crowded area of the shop and begin talking to someone Draco couldn't see. Jumping on the chance to corner Potter at the height of his discomfort, he bee-lined through the crowd and approached from behind.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" he challenged derisively as Wonder Boy spun around. _"Famous _Harry Potter, can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

As Potter's vomit green eyes narrowed angrily, Draco's scornful gaze moved on to the red-haired person beside him – One of the Weasley brood, almost certainly the Weasel he knew. The two had practically been connected at the hip since Day One at Hogwarts–

He froze.

Instantly, a mixture of surprise and horrified shock slammed into him like a tidal wave, and only years of dealing with his Father had taught him to automatically mask his features with an indifferent if not somewhat haughty stare.

It wasn't the Weasel.

It was _her. _The girl who had helped him in Knockturn Alley that Christmas. What had she said her name was? Jen – No, Ginny. Standing there next to Potter, casual as could be, Potter's newly-acquired stack of books poking out of her cauldron as if the two of them were the best of friends.

"Oi, Harry! My dad wants to get out of here – Bollocks. Don't tell me that's _Malfoy."_

"_Ron! _Watch your language!"

Draco's eyes briefly darted to the right, where a taller redhead was plunging through the crowd beside the Walking Bush. Also known as the much-resented Granger.

_Buggering hell. She **is** a Weasley._

As Granger and the Weasley he had expected to see came up behind Potter and Ginny, glaring at him, Draco's throat closed, and this time he truly fought the urge to throw up. The sensation only grew worse when the smallest redhead smiled at him and said, "Hey."

_Hey. Hey yourself._ How was he supposed to respond to that, with all of them standing there? How was he supposed to tell her that what she had said to him that Christmas had changed his point of view on so many things? How could he explain that he had no one to tell, no one to talk to about it, because, for as long as he wanted to preserve his mother and get by with as minimal amount of punishment as possible, he had to be every inch Lucius Malfoy's son?

And, anyway… he hardly knew how to be anything else.

"How are you?" she continued when he didn't speak, that same ridiculously bright, understanding smile from six months yearly still on her little freckled face, dressed in hand-me-down robes that sealed her family's identity without a doubt.

Weasley swung his head toward his – his _sister_ (another wave of nausea rushed over Draco at the idea), suspicion glowing in his heated gaze. "Ginny, do you _know _this git?"

Draco bristled, and she crossed her arms and gave her brother a dirty look. "I'm just being _civil,_ Ron, which is apparently a bit over your head!"

"She has a point," Granger said vaguely while Draco continued to gape at Ginny, though the Muggle-born was still staring at him with an expression of extreme distaste on her face.

The blond boy quickly composed himself a second before the head Weasel arrived. "Just fine, _brat," _he choked out in answer to Ginny's initial question, making sure to twist the comment so it sounded like a proper insult. Any further conversation between them was halted by the arrival of his own father… and the brawl that ensued when the head Weasel shoved his father into a wall.

"Get him, Dad!"

_BANG!_

"_Watch _it!" Draco hissed, automatically yanking the littlest Weasley out of the way as Lucius slammed into a bookcase and a shower of heavy books cascaded down around them. After he'd moved, he gaped down at the culpable hand as if it was attached to some other mechanism rather than his own body, but Ginny didn't seem to notice. Instead, she straightened herself up and stood beside him.

"No, Arthur, no!"

"Yes! Punch him there!"

"You're father's barking mad," Ginny commented mildly as the two grown men tussled around on the floor, taking down several more bookshelves in the process. Draco tensed at the insult, but he relaxed slightly when he saw the slight smile playing at her lips. She looked up at him, the smile breaking into a full-out grin. "Don't be me wrong. Mine's barking mad, too."

Draco tried to sneer but found that the ability had suddenly left him. "Must be contagious," he spat, setting his face into the next best thing: a scowl. "In which case, mine almost _certainly_ caught it from yours."

"Or maybe they caught it from glaring at each other at the _exact_ same time," Ginny countered with a grin, her unmistakable red hair flashing in the bright lights of the shop, mocking him. She leapt out of the way as several shopkeepers rushed past her wielding brooms, shoving their way through masses of people and trying their best to simply _get to_ the actual fight in order to try to stop it.

"Gods, you _are _a little brat," he said in disbelief, but Ginny could just make out the smallest of smirks tugging at his lips. The almost friendly expression soon faded to something unreadable, and he crossed his arms. "Why didn't you tell me that you were a Weasley?" he gruffly asked after a moment, but he nearly had to yell it to be heard over the crowd.

"I – _What?"_ Ginny blinked and looked over at him in surprise, but he simply raised his eyebrows at her in an 'answer the question' sort of way. She had been ready for some scathing banter, maybe… but definitely not that. She considered retorting with something classically Fred and George, something like, 'I thought I'm just a little brat,' but wisely opted against it.

"Would it really have mattered that much?" she finally asked him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh no, not at all," he hissed sarcastically, pointedly shoving his thumb toward the ring of people that had gathered around the fist-fight. "Aside from the fact that our families bloody _hate each other—"_

"Break it up, there, gents, break it up!"

"Ginny!" Ron's voice suddenly exclaimed. She looked toward the call to see him battling his way through the growing, raucous crowd as Hagrid pulled the two men apart. "You get away from her!" he snarled at Draco, yanking Ginny safely out of range of the blond's bubble.

"_Ron!"_ Ginny exclaimed angrily.

"Oh, do relax, Weasley, I wasn't going to _physically attack _her," Draco drawled, leaning back against one of the still-standing bookcases and casually crossing his arms. He glanced pointedly at the center of the room, where Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy were straightening their clothing and still battling each other with their eyes. "That, apparently, seems to be your family's cup of tea…"

"Why, you _slimy_ little–"

"Ron, no!" Harry had appeared from out of nowhere, and, thankfully, he grabbed Ron's collar before he could jump a smirking Draco.

As he did, Ginny was finally able to wrench her arm from her brother's iron grip. She spun on him furiously. "Listen, Ron, it's very good and well that you care about me and all, but you have _no right _to just _yank _me about wherever you please! I can take care of myself perfectly well, thank you very much!"

She would have said more, but she was interrupted by Lucius as he approached and shoved the Transfiguration book that he had taken from her earlier back into her cauldron. "Here, girl – take your book – it's the best your father can give you –" Shooting one more scathing look at her father, he snapped his fingers. "Come along, Draco." He wheeled and marched from the store.

For as quickly as Draco had almost shown her a smile, he sneered at the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione, and started to follow his father when something caught his eye. "What's this, little Weasel?" Stopping abruptly, he bent down and quickly pulled from her tin a small black book that Ginny hadn't recalled placing inside. He looked down at it almost thoughtfully. "Doesn't look like anything I needed in first year. So poor you have to resort to shoplifting, do you?"

"What are you on about!" Ron hissed, stepping in front of Ginny protectively.

"Oh, Ron, stop it. We aren't in the middle of a war." Ginny rolled her eyes and stepped back in front of him. In the background, she could hear Hagrid lecturing her father: _"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur. Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that – no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter – bad blood, that's what it is…"_

Draco must have heard it, too, because his eyes darkened, and he glared fiercely at Hagrid's back. Ginny sighed and expectantly held out her hand to Draco and the book he was grasping. "My mum must've picked it up, which means I'll probably need it," she explained as patiently as she could. "So if you wouldn't mind…"

To Ginny's – and Draco's – surprise, Harry stepped up beside her and piped in threateningly, "Give it to her _now,_ Malfoy!"

Draco's gray gaze briefly traveled between Harry and Ginny before he sneered and pocketed the journal-like book. "No." His intent to keep it was obvious, and she would have been furious if not for the expression in his eyes. It was one she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it was certainly not one of malice or vengeance. "No, I don't think I will."

Ron's face was quickly turning purple."Now, look here, you piece of scum,you_ give that back _or I swear to Merlin I'll– "

"Oh, shut up, Weasley," Draco snapped irritably. Shooting one more entirely unreadable glance at Ginny, he quickly left before a spluttering Ron – or maybe even the head Weasel himself – could launch himself at him, wondering what the hell he'd just done and how much his father would make him pay for it.

**A/N: **So I know I said at the beginning that I wouldn't repeat my plea for reviews… but hey, rules are made to be broken, right? Please review! I would love to know what you think!

Thanks SO much to my first reviewers, mell8, xshortayhustlerx, 1x1pEngUIn89, Tisiphone, and Lady Moonglow! Glad you all liked the start! Just to explain, this story is going to touch very briefly on D/G's first six years at Hogwarts in the slightly alternate way… leading up to Post HBP, where the main plot really takes off.


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